


Day 6: Next Time, Knock

by banana_louis



Category: Larry - Fandom, Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Mutual Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-16 10:13:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8098189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banana_louis/pseuds/banana_louis





	

Louis was exhausted.

He dragged his feet slowly down the quiet hallway toward the bedroom. He was thankful for a moment’s peace after what had been, in short, a hellish Thursday. He had half a mind to say ‘fuck it’ and take Friday off, actually. The thought of a long weekend spent lounging on the couch with the kids, watching Netflix and reading and determinedly _not_ thinking about work… that thought alone was nearly enough to convince him.

He sighed dejectedly and rounded the corner into the bedroom, knowing full well that in seven short hours he would be waking to the shrill ring of his alarm and heading back to the office before the sun even thought about rising again. 

“Stay,” he muttered to Zuko, closing the door quietly in the dog’s panting face. Harry would let him into the bedroom and up onto the bed whenever he finally got home, but for now, Louis wanted a few precious moments alone to spread out comfortably under the cool sheets. He loved their busy, crowded life, but he really loved sleeping, too.

He fumbled with his belt buckle and unbuttoned his pants as he strode toward the dimly lit bathroom, letting them fall to the floor behind him in his wake. He’d pick them up later. Or Harry would. He hated a mess. Louis didn’t mind it.

He took a piss and brushed his teeth and let the silence of the house engulf him. It was rare that their home was ever this quiet. A normal weeknight could find Louis rolling around on the living room floor with sticky, tiny hands grabbing mercilessly at his hair, spitting dog or cat (or a mixture of both) hair out of his mouth while Zuko hopped around and barked at George, watching happily as he climbed all over Louis’ aching body like a piece of playground equipment. One could expect to hear the sounds of running water and dishes clanking in the sink as Harry washed up after dinner while Louis wrestled at least one, maybe two screaming children into a bath and under their covers. Izzy was bound to pitch a fit if Harry didn’t read at least one story to her and Louis always took those precious moments to spend a little time alone with George, lying beside him in his small bed, stroking his hair and watching him drift off peacefully to sleep.

Louis smiled softly to himself and spit his toothpaste into the sink. His nights were usually hectic, but tonight was calm. Harry was still not home from taking the kids to visit his mum, and while Louis felt a slight pang of regret at not having been able to join them thanks to a late night at the office, he also couldn’t stifle the slight sense of relief that he was feeling at being able to truly relax for the first time all week. 

It had been an especially busy one, certainly, between work (and this new fucking client which, Louis scowled irritably as he wiped some toothpaste from the corner of his mouth, was far more trouble than the fee he was charging,) the kids (Louis had had quite a row with Izzy before he’d left the house that morning over her new-found love of coloring, which was all fine and good until she’d picked the front of Louis’ new briefcase as her canvas,) Zuko (who, with the arrival of October and much cooler weather, was shedding hair all over their house, giving the illusion of large, fluffy tumbleweeds blowing across their hardwood floors and clinging annoyingly to the bottom of Louis’ black dress pants,) and last but not least, trying to find the time to fuck his husband every day, which had seemed a much easier task in theory than it had turned out to be in practice.

Not that he was complaining. 

Louis flicked the light off and made his way silently across the dark bedroom. He smirked to himself as he ran through a mental catalogue of the past five days. Blowjobs and food sex and slow sex and quick sex and -- he absentmindedly ran his tongue across his bottom lip as he thought about it -- Harry’s arse. It had been a while since he’d had his face crammed unceremoniously between his husband’s cheeks and he had been pleased to discover that it was just as nice as he remembered. Quite pleased.

He pulled his shirt up and over his head as he climbed into the empty bed, tossing it into a crumpled heap on top of his discarded slacks and not even bothering to turn on the telly. Thinking about Harry’s arse had started his mind racing. 

He lay there on his back staring up into the dark for a few moments, the silence punctuated only by his shallow breathing and the occasional whine emanating from the hallway outside the closed door. Zuko was mad at him. He rolled over onto his side and tried not to feel guilty about that, resolving instead to give him an extra treat in the morning to make up for it.

He turned all the way over on his stomach and slipped his arm around Harry’s cool pillow. He pulled it close into his side and inhaled deeply, letting some of his favorite scents wash over him: their laundry soap, Harry’s shampoo, Harry’s skin, his sweat. Louis smirked again as he thought of the many times he had fucked Harry face-down into that same pillow over the years, his hands tangled into the mess of hair at the nape of Harry’s neck, watching him writhe and struggle beneath him as he kissed and bit at his shoulder blades. 

Louis shifted his hips restlessly against the mattress and swallowed. He could feel his heartbeat increase slightly and his blood begin to gather between his thighs. The past five days had awoken something inside of him that had been lying dormant; it had been a very long time since he’d been alone in their house like this, alone in their bed, with all the room in the world to spread out and fall into what would undoubtedly be a deep and uninterrupted sleep. Yet here he lay with his mind fixated on images of Harry and fantasizing about his husband in ways that he hadn’t done in years. 

He wanted to sleep. He wanted to fuck Harry, too. He grunted audibly. The eternal dilemma.

Louis rolled back onto his side and unwound his hand from around Harry’s pillow, allowing it to wander south instead and slip beneath the waistband of his underpants. He palmed his cock lazily in the hopes of calming it and tried to force his mind back onto sleep, but the backs of his eyelids seemed to be broadcasting a very explicit, X-rated highlight reel of some of the high points of his and Harry’s sex life. Interesting content, no doubt… but unfortunate timing.

He sighed and lifted his head to steal a glimpse at the clock beside the bed. Nearly ten. Harry should be home soon.

He rolled over onto his back with his hand still gripped around his cock and stroked once. He stared up at the ceiling and smiled in spite of himself. How long had it been since he’d had a wank? Months? Years, maybe? Twenty minutes ago his mind had been focused on nothing but the sweet, dreamless sleep that lay in front of him, and now he couldn’t fall asleep to save his life. He bit his lip and stroked himself again.

He had no idea how late Harry would be getting home. The kids had probably fallen asleep curled up on Anne’s sofa and he could picture Harry now, sat around the kitchen table with his family, drinking wine and laughing and letting time get away from him. He pictured Harry’s already pink lips stained red from the wine, pictured those lips wrapped around his cock as he sucked Louis off, and he pumped himself twice more. His breathing had become more shallow, more ragged.

 _Technically,_ they were supposed to be fucking every day. Those were the rules of the challenge. But if Harry wasn’t here, and if he didn’t get home before midnight, then _technically_ those rules had been broken, and all of the past week’s hard work would be wasted. An image of Harry with his head thrown back as he came into his hand after last night’s fifteen-minute quickie flittered to the forefront of Louis’ mind and his cock throbbed annoyingly in his palm. He wondered whether having a wank to the thought of Harry counted for at least a half a point in the challenge? It had to count for something, he figured. 

He stroked himself three times in rapid succession and let out a frustrated moan. If only Harry were here. 

He stretched his arm toward his bedside table and pulled open the drawer. His fingers fumbled clumsily through its contents until they closed around the cool, cylindrical, plastic container that he knew lay buried deep in the farthest corner. He popped open the cap and squeezed a small dollop of lube out into his palm before tossing it back into the mess of junk and sliding the drawer shut after it.

He lay back and stared up into the darkness as he smeared the slick substance onto his cock, his breath catching in his throat as it twitched in his hand. He swirled his thumb around the head and pressed it into the slit at the tip, sending a surge of blood rushing to his groin and thighs where it pooled heavy between his legs and gave him the urge to buck his hips up and into his hand. He wished that Harry was here to do that thing that he liked, that thing with his tongue, but this would have to suffice for tonight.

Louis exhaled slowly and let his eyes flutter shut as he warmed himself up, his hand grabbing and groping and massaging himself lazily. He thought of Harry’s pink lips and how they looked as they dragged a lazy path up and down his shaft. He squeezed the base of his cock and pumped it steadily as he imagined Harry’s big, bright, green eyes staring up into his face as he took Louis all the way into the back of his throat, always eager to please, always warm and soft and tight, the best fucking blowjobs Louis had ever had. Everyone before Harry had been garbage. Harry was the only real thing in the world.

He grunted and he felt the familiar ache beginning to build between his legs as he continued to stroke himself, a bit faster now, thinking only of Harry bent over forward, his face pressed into his stupid TempurPedic body pillow that cost far too much money and Louis’ hand tangled in his hair as he whined and pleaded for Louis to fuck him harder, bent forward over the kitchen table or the bathroom counter or the side of this mattress that Louis was laying on now, bent over every fucking surface in their house at one point or another over the years.

Louis parted his lips and panted steadily. He felt his cock ache and twitch in his grip as he pumped himself faster and gripped himself tighter, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he was spilling into his palm. He was suddenly hot all over and used his free hand to toss the quilt off of his body as his orgasm built and he squeezed his eyes shut. His breathing was loud and ragged and he thought of Harry fucking him now, slow or fast or whichever way Louis begged for it, he thought of the strangled, pathetic noises that Harry made when trying to hold himself back from the edge and Louis knew that he was close, he could feel everything getting tight and loose and heavy and light between his legs all at the same time and he thought of Harry—

“…Lou?”

Louis’ heart stopped beating and his eyes shot open, his chest rising and falling in quick succession with his breathing. He was staring across the dark bedroom at Harry’s black silhouette in the doorway, one hand on the knob as he stood frozen in place. He was staring back across the bedroom at Louis’ naked body splayed out on the bed, one hand on his dick and the other gripped stupidly around his balls. His mind, which had previously been fogged from pleasure, began to clear rapidly as the sweet release of his imminent orgasm slipped just beyond his reach. His dick gave a sad twitch in his palm.

“Are you…” Harry trailed off. “What are you doing?”

“Uh—“

Louis suddenly felt very exposed. In all of the years that they had been together, in all of the years that they had shared a home and a bed, out of all of the compromising and sometimes embarrassing positions that they had found each other in; somehow, this was a first.

Harry remained rooted to the spot, his hand still gripping the doorknob and his eyes remaining fixed on Louis. He didn’t speak.

“I, uh,” Louis stammered awkwardly. “I was...”

He let go of his hard (and frustrated) cock and reached down to where the bed sheets lay pooled across his knees. He clutched them and went to pull them up and over his exposed body, only to be stopped by Harry’s soft but firm voice.

“Don’t.”

Louis froze with the quilt dragged halfway up his thigh. Something was strange in Harry’s voice. Different. Heavy.

“Don’t?” he asked, raising one eyebrow in Harry’s direction. His dick gave another twitch, this one of interest. “Don’t what?”

He watched as Harry took one step forward into the bedroom and turned his body back toward the open doorway. Louis saw Zuko’s ears perk up as he raised his head off of the hallway floor, his tail giving a single, hopeful wag before Harry closed the door silently in his face for the second time this evening. He turned to look at Louis.

“Were you thinking of me?” he asked.

Louis smirked. 

“Maybe.”

Louis let go of the quilt and let it rest against his thigh. He reached for his cock and pumped it lazily, watching Harry’s face focus intently on where his hand lay against his groin, playing with himself. Even in the darkness, his eyes seemed to smolder.

“Thought you’d be asleep by now,” Harry said, not lifting his gaze from Louis’ crotch.

“Me too,” admitted Louis. “That was the plan. But I started… thinking.”

“About what?”

He watched now as Harry shifted his weight restlessly and dropped his own hand to the front of his joggers. Louis knew he was hard.

“About you,” he said evasively as he continued to stroke his cock, watching his husband watching him. He didn’t know why this was turning him on, but he wasn’t about to stop now. “Where are the kids?”

“In bed,” Harry said shortly. “Slept the whole way home. They’re out like lights.”

Louis watched Harry take another step toward the bed and bring his other hand to the waistband of his joggers. He slipped his thumbs beneath the elastic and tugged them down, letting his dick spring free momentarily before wrapping his huge palm around it. 

Louis had been right. He was hard.

“Come over here,” said Louis. His voice was low. “Come closer.” 

Harry did not move. He stood in the darkness a few steps from the edge of the bed, just beyond Louis’ reach, stroking himself and staring down at the spot where Louis lay waiting patiently. His cock was aching at having been so close earlier and then denied release, and he was having to employ considerable restraint at this point to keep from wanking himself in earnest.

“Don’t stop,” Harry said as he walked slowly around the edge of the bed, tugging on his own dick. “You look beautiful. Just like that.”

Louis allowed his hand to pick up the pace and arched his back off the bed. His cock felt heavy in his hand as Harry crawled onto the bed beside him, his lips finding Louis’ and kissing him slowly. Louis continued to stroke himself as his breathing became ragged with Harry’s lips on his neck and on his earlobe and seemingly anywhere that he could reach. He looked down to see Harry frantically pumping himself as he writhed against Louis’ thigh, his eyes fixated on Louis’ hand where it was working hard on his dick.

“You looked so beautiful,” Harry grumbled, and Louis felt himself inching dangerously close to the edge. “I’ve never seen you like that.”

“Yes you have,” Louis breathed. He turned his body so he was lying front-to-front with Harry, their dicks touching as his hand slid over his own and Harry’s at random, not knowing where he stopped and Harry began. “You’ve seen me like that plenty of times.”

“Never like that,” muttered Harry, “never seen you alone.” His voice was gravelly as he bucked his hips and fucked his own hand, sliding his palm over Louis’ cock and licking a stripe up the side of his neck. “I’ve never seen you by yourself.”

“Fuck,” Louis moaned and found Harry’s lips with his own as his cock ached and twitched and he was close again, for the second time, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop this time even if he wanted to, “I’m close—“

“I love you,” Harry whispered, and Louis saw stars. His cry was muffled as he bit into the sleeve of the t-shirt that Harry had not even bothered to remove and came hot into Harry’s hand, his cock finally finding the relief that he’d been seeking for what felt like hours. He wrapped his wet, warm hand around Harry and stroked twice, listening to the sweet sounds of him coming undone beside him as he came right on top of Louis’ mess. They lay there, side-by-side, just breathing into each other’s necks as they came down from it, their bodies entwined and feeling very much like two teenagers again.

“I love you, too,” murmured Louis and he kissed him, hard and purposefully, just like they used to and just like he meant it, because he did. He loved this man in a way that still caught him by surprise, even after all these years. 

Zuko whined and clawed at the door.

“Alright then,” Louis smiled. “Go let him in.”


End file.
